


never forget

by klari19



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, Kozume Kenma's Birthday, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 00:10:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8306375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klari19/pseuds/klari19
Summary: Kuroo did nothing but smile at him for a while, fingers stroking softly the skin of Kenma’s neck, sometimes carding gently through his hair. Finally, he whispered, “Happy birthday, Kenma.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy belated birthday to my sweetest apple pie child (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

When Kenma pushed close the front door of his house it made a sound a little louder than he’d intended it to. He cringed a little, but he could honestly care less.

“Kenma? What’s wrong?” both his parents inquired worriedly from the kitchen where they were probably finishing their preparations for supper.

Kenma closed his eyes and sighed heavily, “Nothing.” He kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his light jacket, only feeling a little bit happy to finally find his house’s warmth at the end of the day. “I’ll just—go to my room for a while.”

When he passed the entrance to the kitchen on his way to the staircase he caught a quick glimpse of his parents shrugging at each other, confused. He was glad that they didn’t question him further. Up in his room Kenma closed the door, with less force this time, and threw himself face-down on his unmade bed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and lit up the screen, checking his notifications for what felt like the thousandth time that day. (And it probably was.)

But still. Nothing.

Kenma couldn’t help the frown and pout that pulled at his features then. He had wished to get at least a short text message, or a call…

He turned on his back and let the phone rest on the bed beside him. With an arm pulled over his eyes Kenma just lay there for a while, hoping to think about nothing at all until his parents called him downstairs to eat. …Key-word, _hoping_.

The thoughts came anyway. Thoughts of birthday wishes from _a certain someone_ ; wishes which had come in different ways (from small hand-made cards to impressive surprise parties) all the way through middle and high school. _He_ was always the first one, after Kenma’s parents, to wish Kenma happy birthday when he got to school. And then _he_ had actually become the very first one to say it when they’d gotten phones, calling Kenma early in the morning or sending Kenma a text at midnight precisely every year… And even though it kind of flustered Kenma every time he had somehow become accustomed to it. He thought the little tradition would pursue itself when _he_ ’d go to college and Kenma had to stay to finish high school but…

But.

Now the pattern had been broken and it—hurt. Just a little, but it did.

Suddenly Kenma became aware of the lump in his throat, and he frowned more. He shouldn’t feel like that for such a small thing. (But it wasn’t a small thing, his mind told him, and he knew it had never and never would be one, especially for _him_.) Kenma cleared his throat and breathed out a soft, bitter laugh.

Knock, knock, knock. “Kenma? Supper’s ready,” his father called softly from the other side of the door.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a moment,” Kenma murmured, slowly sitting up on his bed.

He checked his phone one last time, sighing when he saw nothing but game notifications, before heading downstairs with heavy steps.

✧ ✧ ✧

Just like every year, Kenma’s parents made him his favorite dessert, and Kenma somewhat felt a little happier while biting into his (“absolutely delicious, thanks”) apple pie slice.

Kenma smiled at them all the way through supper so that they didn’t worry about him, but he knew they sensed something was more than a little off. He bid them goodnight before they thought about starting to ask questions.

Back in his room Kenma realized that he _really_ felt like passing out for a while now, which was unusual because he always played a round or two with Shouyou before sleeping, but… He just didn’t feel like it, so he turned from his desk to his bed and flopped down on it once more. He thought Shouyou would probably understand if he didn’t hear from him for just one night. (Lies, Shouyou would definitely be worried because “you’re practically married to your console!!” so Kenma decided to text him and tell him he’d make up for the lack of gaming tomorrow.)

Kenma was sighing and shaking his head as he read Shouyou’s text message asking if he should call an ambulance for him when he heard a strange noise. Starting a little Kenma looked at the window beside his bed, frowning. It had sounded like… a small object, or a rock hitting the glass…?

To inspect further on the origin of the sound Kenma crawled on his knees to get closer to the window… and almost fell down his bed when another rock—and it was a rock, now he was sure about it—hit the half-lidded window.

Kenma was debating on whether to tell Shouyou to call the cops (he would never be able to get past his anxiety and do it himself, oh no) or yell for his parents to come see what was going on when he heard _his own name_ being called softly from outside. And that—

That voice was a one he’d recognize between thousands. A voice which would _always_ make him feel better.

Kenma’s heartbeat picked up as he lifted himself up to gaze down through the window, but he frowned and tilted his head to the side in confusion when he saw the scene going on in the garden.

“Kuro? What—what the…?”

“Kenma!” Kuroo whisper-shouted, looking up in the direction of Kenma’s window from where he was crouching down in the middle of the bushes. His lips pulled up in a huge relieved smile when he saw Kenma’s pudding hair appear in the opening. “Will you let me go inside?”

“Of…course?” Kenma replied, still unsure of what was going on.

Seeing Kuroo emerge warily from the bushes, looking to both sides before stepping out of them, made things even more humorously confusing. And Kenma couldn’t help but smile when he saw him tiptoe through the grassy space between the plants and the house, as if scared that he’d get caught if he made any noise.

After a particularly impressive re-creation of an Assassin’s Creed wall climb scene, Kuroo was finally inside Kenma’s room, sprawled on Kenma’s bed beside him. Wheezing a little, he looked up at Kenma with bright eyes and an even brighter smile.

That’s when Kenma came to his first realization. “You could have… used the front door you know,” he whispered while playing with the hem of his shirt, a bad nervous habit he had a hard time getting over.

“I know,” Kuroo said softly, sitting up in front of Kenma. “But it was cooler to make an entrance like this, wasn’t it?”

Kenma averted his gaze and turned his face to the side to hide the small smile forming on his lips. He was glad he had long hair; it helped make the task easier. But Kuroo… Kuroo was having none of that.

Gentle fingers brushed over Kenma’s cheek, moving slowly over his skin until they reached the back of his neck. Kenma instinctively turned to look at Kuroo, eyes wide and mouth gaping a little—as it always happened whenever Kuroo touched him because he _still_ was affected whenever touched him fondly like that, after all these years...

Kuroo did nothing but smile at him for a while, fingers stroking softly the skin of Kenma’s neck, sometimes carding gently through his hair. Finally, he whispered, “Happy birthday, Kenma.”

And suddenly there was warmth all around Kenma as Kuroo hugged him close to his chest, one hand still resting over the back of his neck and the other tight around his waist. “I’m—so sorry. My phone broke and I couldn’t text you or call you and my last midterm exam ended only about two hours ago and it was _hell_ all day because—God, I wanted to hear your voice, wish you happy birthday and hug you like this but I had to wait until now and—”

Then came Kenma’s second realization. “You… came all this way for—” _this, everything_.

“Yes… I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner, though…” Kuroo hugged him tighter, making Kenma wrap his legs around his waist so that he was more comfortable. Past the initial tension Kenma couldn’t help feeling, he was now more than glad to snuggle up against Kuroo like this. But still—

“That’s—You’re—” Kenma gaped, his words muffled against Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Lame? Dumb? Terrible from me?” Kuroo suggested, sighing softly into Kenma’s hair.

Kenma gently pushed against his chest and Kuroo understood, letting his arms relax around Kenma. Pulling away a little from Kuroo’s no longer too-tight embrace, Kenma pressed both hands to Kuroo’s cheeks and locked their gazes.

“That’s amazing.”

Kenma saw (and felt) Kuroo blush under his palms. Kuroo averted his gaze and let out a breathy laugh.

“Come on, I’m not amazing.” Kenma gently whipped a hand up the back of Kuroo’s head “Ow ow, Kenma! I’m not!” But he was smiling. Then, he pressed a gentle kiss to Kenma’s forehead. “You, on the other hand…”

Hugging Kenma tightly again, Kuroo let both of their bodies slowly fall down on their sides on the small bed. With their heads resting on the pillow they gazed fondly at each other, fingers light on each other’s face and neck and arms… Taking everything back from the time that had been stolen away from them while Kuroo was studying in the city.

“You, on the other hand…” Kuroo repeated softly, ghosting his fingers over Kenma’s cheek and jawbone. “You’ve always been and will ever be the most incredible person I’ll ever meet, and I truly believe that you deserve the very best in this world.”

Coming to his third realization that night, Kenma couldn’t help himself from speaking up, “Then I deserve only you.”

Kuroo blinked. And if Kenma had been pressed closer to him he’d have noticed how Kuroo’s heart sputtered and coughed in his chest.

“Dammit Kenma,” Kuroo groaned after a moment, pushing his red face into the pillow and pulling Kenma close to his chest again. “How am I supposed to answer that.” Despite his low tone, Kenma could feel laughter bubbling in Kuroo’s chest against his cheek.

“Just answer honestly?”

A few moments passed until Kuroo could muster enough strength to speak up again. “You’ll always have me, no matter what happens.” Kuroo kissed the top of Kenma’s head and hugged him tighter.

Kenma smiled against Kuroo’s chest and returned his tight embrace. “Thank you… for this.”

“It’s my pleasure, really.”

“Also, I’m sorry your phone broke.”

“Nah, it’s fine. It just made the agony worse, but it’s alright.” Kenma laughed a little at that, and Kuroo couldn’t help but join him.

Kuroo’s hands were light over Kenma’s back, palms smoothing softly over the thin fabric of Kenma’s shirt. Kenma’s fists were tight balls behind Kuroo’s back.

“Kenma, you feel a little tense all of a sudden,” Kuroo whispered, sounding a little sleepy already.

 _Of course_ Kuroo would notice. Even when half-asleep he was able to pick up even the smallest changes in Kenma’s behavior.

In a whim, Kenma decided to act upon what was keeping him nervous and pulled away from Kuroo’s frame. Kuroo blinked slowly while trembling fingers touched his cheek hesitantly, as if asking for permission. The look he gave Kenma was enough to let him know that it was more than okay to go for it.

And Kenma did.

The touch of their lips was soft and warm, and above all… completely natural. Although it was just a quick press of lips against lips—it somehow felt perfect. As if they were _meant_ to fit against each other just like that. It was good and right and _wonderful_.

Kuroo’s eyes were closed when Kenma pulled away, and Kenma saw his lips slowly pull up into a smile before he even opened them again. Quickly, Kenma dove to hide against Kuroo’s chest once more.

“Kenma…” His voice was low and soft, full of emotion. Kenma couldn’t take it.

“Shh! Don’t speak.”

Kuroo broke into full-on, loud and boisterous laughter—only to press a hand over his own mouth a split second later. “Sorry,” he murmured against his palm. “Don’t want your parents to start thinking there’s a ghost or something up here.”

“They wouldn’t—oh my God, Kuro.” Kenma tightened his arms around Kuroo’s neck and smiled against his collarbone. “Such a dork…” Kuroo’s chest shook lightly with laughter at that.

Kenma fell asleep listening to Kuroo’s heartbeat and the sound of his sleepy voice, whispering every once in a while,

“Happy birthday, Kenma…”

**Author's Note:**

> okay but //clears throat casual displays of affection and slowly-but-soundly moving relationships and just general dorkiness amirite. yes that's what i live for
> 
> this is dedicated to the whole fam over at bokuakakuroken chat! much love to all of you //blows a kiss
> 
> find me at kuroosthighz and clara-wrote-once on tumblr -thumbs up-


End file.
